


To sleep dreamless once more

by Randomfandomwoman



Category: The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Gen, promt fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 00:16:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15829854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Randomfandomwoman/pseuds/Randomfandomwoman
Summary: Based on this promt:As a psychologist, you are required by law to respect your patients secrets, and keep them secret. Your newest patient however reveals to you that they are the secret identity of a famous superhero. You get to know a superheroes secrets, problems and personality, and you can't tell anyone.





	To sleep dreamless once more

You were surprised to find your office open, the door slightly shifting in the wind, and for a moment you fear that the office has been broken into. It’s only a slight fear, as only a suicidal dipshit would break into your office, but humanity has done stupider things in the past. You open the door, slowly, letting the creaking of the door spread into the room. It wouldn't be the first time a patient has hidden from an abuser or thier own household, but they normally have keys and know to keep the door shut. Inside is a girl, a woman really, but they all look like children to you. She is bloody and beaten, both inside and out, her eyes closed in what appears to be some form of meditation.

You know her, Jessica jones, know her better than she thinks, as her sister trish has been coming to your office for years. She opens her eyes, her deep brown eyes, eyes that remind you of a labrador or perhaps a german shepherd. A combination of dangerous, gentle, and broken. A volatile mix, but not unknown to you, after all you’ve been at this for a very long time.

“Trish said this was the safest building in new york,” Jessica declares as a sort of explanation as to why she is bleeding all over your floor, yet you can hear the question in her voice, the fear of someone who hasn't felt safe in a very long time. You smile, gentle and hopefully not too revealing of your true nature.

“Yes, and so it shall remain for years to come, this house is neutral ground” You tell her, and she scoffs as children often do, unbelieving of the higher planes around them, of the rules and hands that govern them.

“No such thing as neutral ground” She spits, her face narrowed in distrust, not wanting to reveal how desperate she is or how injured. You were, after all, supposed to be on a plane heading to canada for a yearly meeting with an old client. You decide to give her a smug smile, the one a parent gives to a child after a deceleration of something proposerous, something silly.

You ignore her, walking towards one of your many cabinets, letting her ponder the meaning of that smile. What jessica doesnt know is that you’ve been waiting for her for a very long time, waiting for the age of heroes to come round once more, to be of use on a grander scale again. You turn round, holding a medicine kit and a bottle of wine.

“Want a drink?”

You talk, jessica and you, of the endless pit that is a superheroes job. You can understand, in a way, with your line of endless patients and the never ending job of fixing the shattered souls around you. It’s worth it, in the end you see the golden souls around the city, healed and shining with such intensity. Jessica never lingers long enough to see such thing, she has only ever seen the bad, except for perhaps trish, love is wonderful like that. Love can heal as much as it can hurt, though with the stone walls around her heart, you fear that this will be a long case. Case’s like jessica’s, they tend to notice your truths, and questions are awkward things to be avoided. But you patch her up and send her on her way, whispering a little known fact about humanity, they can change if given enough time.

You see jessica every few months or so, always bloody, always tired and with more alcohol in her system than you would like. But you smile, and you listen, and as it always does, this seems to break down those stone walls. You have patience, something jessica lacks in her life, you are the mountain to her whirlwind, unmovable and unflabble, and unspeakably kind. Jessica looks at you, when she thinks you can’t see her, such an expression on her face.

A sad thing really, to watch a child wonder if this house truely was safe, to ponder the love that you have given her. But she talks, little by little, and after a time you get to kilgrave, whom you refer to as kevin, because kilgrave is too ridiculous to entertain even for a moment. It mocks him, something that jessica takes pleasure in, as she deals with his aftermath. She never cries, though sometimes you wish that she would, tears are a way of coping, learning and dealing with trauma. You’ll get there, one day, and the small smiles she gives you are worth the wait.

Its a year after that first meeting that Jessica brings friends over. You can smell the fear and anxiety even before you step onto the small gravel path, the one splash of green in this city of silver. They are all bloody, tired and broken, each attempting to deal with their emotions. Jessica crinkles and uncrinkles a paper, the man in red paces back and forth, the dark skinned man leans against a wall, and the blond haired man isin mediation. The iron fist notices you first, his eyes wide as his aura touches yours, and with this one the jig is up. The man in red then asks whats wrong, and jessica knows that you are here, she knows the drill. All but jessica tense at your presence, and you give a small secretive smile to the iron fist, hoping he understands enough to keep his mouth shut for now.

“We didn't have anywhere else to go” jessica tells you, slightly apologetic, slightly afraid of the turn out of this meeting. She looks better now, her soul slightly less broken, and you are pleased with this, that she would trust you enough to bring her friends along, and that she had friends to bring. Though you wished they wouldn't bleed all over your carpet.

“Who wants tea” You ask, not even bothering to ask what adventure they got into this time, it’ll be on the news evenully.

Danny is the first human to confront you in a very long time. He watches you, and the others as they fall asleep, his blue eyes like the pacific in the light, stormy and strong, and you feel a longing for the waves of the west. Perhaps a trip is in order, after this all blows over, and you can become a bystander once more. He watches you as you clean up, the dragon in his heart is racing, roaring caution and distrust, his aura so small compared to yours. You beckon him to the dojo, the room blessed in a way he will enjoy, your aura less malicious here.

“What are you and what do you want with jessica” he asks, blunt and to the point, he would try to kill you here, if he doesn't like your answer, and this brings a smile to your face. He loves her, and you think back to the greeks, and their seven versions of love.

“An Eternal gone wrong, a hybrid if you like, born in a time of war. Now I strive to defy my makers” you tell him, watching the confusion his face, and you laugh. You love them, humans, more than the makers who created you or the people you came from. All dead now though, just you, a reminder to an age long gone. “As for jessica I wish to heal her, I wish to heal all of you, to restore what time has snatched away.”

He doesn't believe you at first, and you scoot closer, the monks had hurt him more than he realized, though you can see he is pushing away their teachings. He knows what you are, and to his credit doesn't flinch or back away when you place your hands around his head. He cries, deeply and resoundly, his arms around you. He sobs like a child, grieving for the first time in over a decade, and you know how that feels. It took a long time to accept death, for centuries you hated her, furious at how the world keep turning. But in time you accepted the truth. She is a companion now, death, few could understand her like you. Danny rand, for the first time in many years, sleeps without nightmares.

You walk into the room where jessica is sleeping, your fingers sliding through her hair, she too would sleep without dreams. And on the off chance she did, they would be dreams of life, of happy memories, bittersweet only in the morning. The man in red, mat murdoc, watchings you. He’s not in the room, but you can hear him listening, just as he can hear you. It seems that none of them understood the importance of a sleep cycle. For shame, and your smile turns fond as jessica relaxs under your grooming. You had told her once she was safe here, even in dreams, the dangers of this world always stopped at the door. It was your bargain with the universe, neutrality, in the bitter conflict between life and death. You move on to the room with the dark skinned man, luke cage, and do the same. Matt still watches you, but he can wait, time is another close friend you have gained over the years.

Matt murdock sits on the coach, his unseeing eyes looking into your soul, and you know he has come to the conclusion you are not human. He is perceptive, and you can taste the near violence in the air, these are his people, his family. And he will do anything to protect them. His whole body his tense, like danny he is ready for a fight, ready to die. Always ready to die, humans live so short lives, they understood death long before you did. Though these four clearly need some help regarding its nature, they all seem much too each to leap into death's arms.

“What did you do to them” He demands, and unlike the iron fist, his words have a weight to them. A heaviness that conveyed violence on a personal level. You wonder if he can hear the shifting of your face as your smile disappears, if he can hear the ages in your bones, the decades in your blood, the centuries in every breath.

“Kept their nightmares at bay, they will sleep soundly, and without fear.”

“Why?” he asks, and your smile returns, ever so small, as you regard yet another cynic.

“Because it is kind” You reply, and there is nothing else to say, no other words or reasons, he regards you cooly, still not convinced. You wish he was not blind, for eyes are the windows to the soul and yours always manages to soothe and calm. It was not your nature, not at first, but you learned. Step by step and human by human.

“Sure” he scoffs, and you know that life has not been kind to him, nor has magic. He tenses when you stand, moving to the chair beside him, able to touch but not yet, he is not ready.

“Not everything as price. Some people are kind for its own sake, a truth you have forgotten, a lie pressed into your skin. Let me show you,” you ask, pouring your heart into your words, hoping the sounds convince him. Slowly he extends a hand and you grin, watching as the weight of the world lifts from his shoulders. He sleeps in a few minutes, blinking away tears, and he looks like a child as you place him on the coach.

They lose a day to you, sleeping away their troubles, none of them know they were followed. Their enemy, a lanky man in a suit, who by your standards is not quiet human, not anymore, stands at your door. He takes one look at you and walks away, smarter than the other monsters who have turned up on her doorstep, looking for vengeance. He will wait for them to leave, as is proper, and you flash him a small smile for that. There is a reason your grass is so green, your herbs so lush and your trees so fresh. The living pay with the dead, you take the rotten of humanity and help them grow again, feeding the broken souls they trampled upon.

Luke cage is the first to awaken. He is calmer than the others, though he still has his rage, suppressed and waiting to explode. He has shoved it down for too long, anger is a nasty thing, one of the lesser useful emotions, if channeled improperly, and so very few can channel anger like you. He has a soft frown on his face, as if he still felt your lingering presence, or was disturbed by the lack of dreams. You smile at him, smiles reveal much, your lips have had a millennium to practice their language, luke cage does not like what he sees. No one ever does, except for a certain pair of canadians who she visits once a month, and you wonder if you should invite others.

“Where did you put it?” Luke asks as he watches the sun start to filter in, and you know what he is referring to.

“I smoothed it out, sort of like opening a dropped coke bottle, you needed to relieve some pressure.”

“I didn't ask you to” he responds, not angry, not yet, for now he wants to understand.

“No one ever does,” You tell him, and after a few moments of consideration he smiles. Not large or broad, a smile of thanks where words are not needed. He does not ask how, bless him, something beautiful about the way he watched the light. One by one, the defenders awaken, well rested for the first time in years, ready to take on the world, knowing they’ll be back, and with others.

You watch them leave, rejoicing in the small smile jessica gives you. She has taken a step towards healings, they all have, and they will bring others along in their wake. The age of heroes, so close you can taste it, but still you wait. You glance at the large silver tower near the center of the city, and wonder how long it would take to get the avengers down to this little house of yours.

“It won't work” A voice slithers near your ear, and you frown at the shadow leaning against your door. One of two, a savior and a damner, a watcher and a meddler, light and dark, life and death. They have not visited in years.

“Why ever not” you ask, giving the shadow a smile, bittersweet and brittle on her lips.

“Because it never works. This empire will fall, this age will turn to dust, I don't know why you bother” they snarl, and your smile stays, they will always be unable to see the sun, hear the music, taste the golden souls of humanity.

“Then we must have faith it will. Would you like a drink” you ask, you are wearing him down, and how ever many centuries it takes, your twin will one day join in the sun.

“I would like that” They whisper, and together you enter the house, leaving the pain of humanity for another day.


End file.
